


You Can't Make Me

by Ticklishanimeboysaremylife



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Not really though, Tickle Fights, Tickle fic, Tickling, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:07:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28744452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ticklishanimeboysaremylife/pseuds/Ticklishanimeboysaremylife
Summary: Paul refuses to go to his office's New Year's Eve party which prompts Emma to rely on drastic measures.
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	You Can't Make Me

“I’m not going.”

Paul’s arms were crossed against his chest, resolute in his decision. Emma stood by the TV which she had turned off to direct his attention to the invitation in her hand, which detailed a New Year’s work party. It was an invitation that Paul had received about a couple days ago and had been hiding in the hopes that Emma would not find it. Unfortunately, it seemed his efforts were in vain.

“They’re your friends!” Emma exclaimed, waving the invitation around empathetically. “You should hang out with them instead of spending your day here, alone, again, like you always do.”

“I’m not alone,” Paul protested in a manner that was not at all childlike. “I have you. Besides, hanging around with big crowds of people is not exactly my scene.”

“No,” Emma agreed. “Your scene is missing out on every big life event that comes your way.”

“Why do you even care?” Paul pointed out. “Last time I checked, you weren’t too big a fan of them either.”

“Because they’re your friends, Paul.” Emma sighed, flopping down on the couch next to him. “You spend all of your time with me. Don’t get me wrong, I love the attention, but I want you to have a life outside of me. They care about you and I know you care about them too. So why won’t you go?”

Paul shrugged, averting his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I just—” He broke off suddenly, flushing. “No, it’s stupid, never mind. Look, can we just agree not to go and drop the subject already?”

Emma turned towards him, interest sparked. “No wait, what were you going to say?”

“Nothing, forget about it,” he muttered.

Emma narrowed her eyes. There was no way she wasn’t going to get him to spill whatever it was; it could be important after all. She noticed the way his arms were crossed, leaving his sides fully exposed. Bingo. “I have ways of making you tell me, you know.”

Paul frowned, genuine confusion crossing his features. “What are you talking about—hey!”

Paul startled as two fingers jabbed into his side and pulled a definitively unmanly squeak from his mouth. A flush slowly began to make its way to his cheeks and, seeing the way Emma was looking at him, he was quick to shut whatever this was down before it could start. “Whatever it is you’re thinking, no.”

“I’m not thinking anything,” she said innocently, following him as he backed away on the couch. “Why are you moving away from me? Is something wrong?”

“No,” he protested. “No, uh, of course not. You just—surprised me. Yes. That’s it. So, uh, there’s really no need for you to try again—no!”

Her fingers were fast and devious when they landed on his sides, wringing laughter out of him before he could do anything to prevent it. “W-Wahahait! Emma, nohoho!”

“What were you going to say?” she asked, squeezing up his sides and causing him to flail dangerously. “Why don’t you want to go to the party?”

“B-Behehecause—” In his laughter-muddled state, Paul could think of no genuine excuse. “Behehecause fuhuhuck yohohou!”

“Oh, ho, ho, now you’re gonna get it.” Her hands shot up, sneaking their way into his armpits and digging into the sensitive nerves contained there. He squeaked, jumping a near mile in the air as he desperately tried to pull her hands away. “Is it bad there? Do you want me to stop?”

Paul could think of nothing to do but nod in answer while releasing all manner of embarrassing snorts and shrieks. His arms clamped down on her hands but all that accomplished was trapping them in place so that he had no choice but to raise his arms if he wanted her to stop, something he absolutely refused to do.

“C’mon Paul,” Emma teased. “Just tell me the reason and this can all be over.”

“I cahahan’t!” he protested, throwing his head back on the couch. “Ihit’s ehehembarrassing! Gah—nohoho, dohohon’t!”

“It can’t possibly be more embarrassing than this,” she prompted in what she found to be encouragement. Finally, she decided to give him a break and moved her hands back down to his sides, a place that appeared to be fairly ticklish all on its own, but not nearly the hotspot that was his armpits. “I promise I won’t laugh at whatever it is. You can trust me.”

“C-Clehehearly nohot!” Paul batted uselessly at her hands, unable to coherently function in his current state. “Pfft—nohoho—stahahahap!”

Emma felt her heart flutter traitorously in her chest at the sight of her Paul, cynical, sarcastic Paul, reduced to this writhing, babbling mess from just a few fingers. Though she was very intent on her mission, she found herself momentarily distracted by the sweet, innocent giggles falling from his mouth.

It was in this distracted state, however, that she accidentally let her touch wander too far south. The second her hands came anywhere near his hips Paul’s eyes snapped open and some wild instinct took over that prompted him to blindly reach out and grab her sides in turn.

Emma was unprepared for this turn of events. She jumped, biting down harshly on her lip to prevent the mortifying sound that almost leapt out. “W-Wait, hold on Paul, think about this—noHOHO!”

As it turned out, Emma was somehow even more ticklish than Paul was. It seemed that everywhere he touched was overly sensitive, even her lower calves which he had no end of amusement with.

“This is wild,” he muttered, amazed, as he gently pinched up and down her lower legs. “I never even thought someone could be ticklish here.”

“Paul, Paul, Paul, Pahahahahaul!” she squealed in protest, the only word she could seemingly get out as she writhed on the couch. She twisted around, hitting him viciously on the shoulder. “Stahahahap!”

“You know, all this time I’ve endured your tickle attacks and not once did I think to get you back,” Paul mused, snagging one of her legs in his arms so he could scribble fingers over her defenseless soles. This prompted her to fall back onto the couch in a giggling heap. “If I had known it was this easy to get you back I would have tried ages ago.”

“T-Thihihis ihihisn’t fahahair! Yohou lihike ihit!”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be talking back,” he pointed out, digging fingers under her toes and attempting to ignore his rampant blush at her words.

“T-Thahat’s whahat y-yohou thihink!” Emma lurched forward and with a sudden surge of energy managed to pull her leg from his grip and flip them around so that her fingers could dig harshly into the slender bones of his hips. She relished in his resulting jump, grinning triumphantly. “I had an older sister, remember? I am well-versed in the art of tickle fights.”

Paul burst into wild and uncharacteristic laughter as she turned the tables back on him. This time he only lasted for a couple of seconds, unable to have his worst spot demolished like that. “Fihihihine, fihihihine, I-I’ll tehehell yohohou, Juhuhuhust stahaHAHAHAHAP!”

That was all she needed to hear. Emma released him, sitting back smugly on the couch. Paul huffed in exhaustion, holding his hips irritably. “That was mean.”

Emma shrugged. “You poked the dragon.”

“If I remember correctly, you poked me first.”

“Details. Anyway, If I remember correctly, I believe you had something to tell me?”

Paul sighed. He hadn’t wanted to get into this tonight, but as Emma stared at him with those earnest, trusting eyes, he found the words spilling from his lips before he could stop them. “I just sometimes worry that they don’t want me around. My co-workers, I mean.”

Emma frowned. “What do you mean? You all seem to get along fine.”

“Now,” he corrected firmly. “But I was never all that close to them before, and if I’m being honest I think I might have come off as sort of an asshole. It’s just kind of hard to believe that they just forgot about all of that.”

Emma reached forward to grab his knee, squeezing it in a reassuring, non-ticklish way. “Dude, trust me. I know all about feeling guilty for being an asshole to people; I get it. Yeah, maybe in the past you weren’t the nicest, but they’ve gotten to know you since then. They like the real you. They wouldn’t hang around you if they still thought you were an asshole.”

Paul gave her a critical look, trying to discern if she was bullshitting him or not. “You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. When have I ever been wrong?” Before Paul could open his mouth to contradict her, she stood up definitively and shrugged on her jacket. “Now c’mon—are we going to that stupid party or not?”

Paul looked up at her, five feet of cocky grins and ruffled hair from rolling around on the couch, helping him through yet another issue without even trying. Sometimes he found that he couldn’t help but fall in love with Emma over and over again. Slowly he stood up as well, taking her hand. “Yeah, okay. Only because your argument was so compelling.”

“Great, cause I am in the mood for some crappy office champagne.” She paused with her hand on the door, turning to glare at him. “Also, just so you know, if you ever tickle me again I will break both your arms, understood?”

Paul smirked, a mischievous spark taking hold of him. “Is that so?”

Emma scurried back from him, seeing the look in his eyes. “Paul, no, we’re gonna be late—”

“We have a couple minutes. I think some revenge is due, don’t you think?”

“Wait, wait, wait, Paul nohohohohoho!”

Needless to say, they ended up late to the party after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Emma and Paul really deserved so much more love than they got!  
> You can find me at my tumblr: https://happyandticklish.tumblr.com/


End file.
